The Cleansing of Nexorus

Game Master thegreenteagamer

The gnoll makes a disgusted sound following Sithiliss' plea.

Bleeding hearts. Perspective. You can die here, in this camp and alone, or you can risk death fighting. You warrior types like that right? This fight comes with the grandest prize of all at the end of the tunnel.

"They're not so much a secret. People know the tunnels exist. They just don't go down them. They also don't know they lead to the other side of the mountain. The...things...in there..." The hob shakes his head mournfully. "Besides that, the humans booby-trapped the entrance a long time back. Both to keep the things from eating workers and to keep us from going down that way. Nobody's made an attempt in as long as anyone can remember. Schwartz keeps the map because nobody will search a guard at random. He dug it up from some old records of this camp before they converted it to what it is. Anyway, Schwartz is one of the guards with the red stripes. Carries a big ol' greatsword. He keeps an extra mean act up to fool the other guards, so don't dare talk to him in front of them...but alone...he approached me a week back about this. My friends were planning it, and they had me scout out the area, but I tripped one of the traps, and they barely managed to drag me back to camp. We said a cave in fell on me, which was half the truth, but..." Corrin trails off at the painful recent memory.

He scratches his chin. "You could, I suppose, leave him a note in his locker, if you could somehow get to it in the barracks, to contact you. Just mention the word Terrantos - it's sort of...a secret code among the rebels. He'll trust you then."

Vuram stares at Corrin for a long moment, looking for the tell that doesn't come. He's gotten pretty good at reading people of all races, and he doesn't think the hobgoblin was lying to him. Unbidden, a spark of hope arises. "Alright, we'll send him a letter, you'll write exactly what I tell you to. If this is on the level...we'll see."

"The worse thing is if those horrors cause you not to feel. If you build a wall to block everyone out, you end up in the cold and dark alone." Sithiliss replies to Vuram. "And people who have no emotions can do anything without remorse." Sithiliss gestures at scene outside the tent walls. "We're all in this together, we need to help each other get out of this place."

Vuram's nostrils flare and he ducks his head, an instinctive gesture of anger for a minotaur. Glowering at the lizardfolk he speaks in a dangerously soft voice as hard and cold as ice, "Do not speak to me of emotions, I've been in these camps for years and you have yet to clear your first hour. Emotions are what got us into this damned mess. We were soldiers, captured in battle and promised honorable treatment--but it was all a lie. My sergeant, he confronted them at the very first camp they sent us to, tried to fight for us, and they sawed off his horns and laughed as he bled to death there in the mud. I don't know whether anyone else in my unit is even still alive."

Vuram takes a slow, shuddering breath, then continues. "We were warned. Everyone had heard the stories of how the humans treated prisoners, even then. But we'd been under siege for months, we were starving and desperate and they fed us lies like honey. We convinced ourselves that the camps were just propaganda, that the humans considered us more than mere cattle..." Vuram seems to run out steam, seemingly deflating a little before everyone's eyes. Barking out a sound halfway between a cough and a bitter laugh, the minotaur turns and walks into his tent, not willing to meet anyone's eyes.

knowledge: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

Volnar watches the minotaur walk away, wondering what it must have been like. He couldn't imagine it, not really. He was starting to realize that he may have been better off staying in his woods. It's not like Rathin wasn't capable of taking care of himself. He sighed inwardly. Time to keep moving forward.

"I know something of traps, at least of the mechanical variety. If we're lucky, I can get us by them. And honestly, I was going to ask why we should trust this Schwartz guy, but at this point, will whatever he's leading us towards be much worse than dying here?"

"I'm...sorry for your loss.I didn't know..." It seemed inadequate after all was said and done, but what else could he do? The usually eloquent cleric is struck speechless by Vuram's tale of woe. 'It must jave been really horrible to be dangled a sliver hope, then have shatterred to pieces right in front of you. To believe, then to be betrayed.' Sithiliss thought to himself.

"You're right Volnar. At least if we tried, we know that we died doing something worthwhile. "

Sithiliss goes into Vuram's tent. "We can't do anything about what has already happend, in the past, but we can work towards the future.Unless you believe the future isn't worth fighting for. "

The perspective of venturing on dark tunnels with mysterious dangers and creatures actually excited Lettu. He lived his entire life underground - this felt just like returning home. Except for the part he was probably going to die. Well, this part actually felt like returning home as well.

The corby shook his head pretending to pay attention, but ignoring most of the sad stories around - he was pretty sure everybody had their own sad past, and he couldn't help but not feel any sympathy. However, he felt as these guys were his ultimate chance of escaping.

Wings had a natural sense of loyalty between comrades; right now, that's what it felt like. It was like his basic code of survival, and trusting or not, he knew he'd at least give it a try. What did he have to lose? His life?

Let's consider our options in the scarce peace sleep gives to at least some of us. Shutting eyes for sore muscles but breathing minds. - he finally said. His voice sounded deep, dark, and he moves his arms signing with the claws towards the tents.

Vuram heaves a sigh. "You don't know when to quit, do you? Look, Sithillus right? I see what you're trying to do, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop. If the Corrin guy's on the level then I'm leaving. I'll find what's left of my squad and break them out, and failing that I'll die killing every damn Nexoran I can get my hands on."

Corrin nods to the others. "So, you said write everything you say. What then? We haven't got much to work with here..." He tears a sleeve off his shirt, and dips a finger in the bloody entrails that Leo left. "What? It's not exactly like they left us stationary to work with."

Sithiliss gives a pained grimace as he sees Corrin write a letter using Leo's blood. "We could try a pigment made out of ashes from the incinerator the next time. I can provide the water,"he suggests.

"So what do we want to say to this guy exactly? Give us the map and we'll take it from there? I'm not sure what else we need to say really."

Vuram muses for a moment. "Problem is, if he's bait there's not much we can ask that his handlers wouldn't agree to. Except maybe...yeah, ask for the map, but we'll need him to smuggle us some weapons too. No guns, just a couple of blades or the like. If it's a trap they won't feel good about arming us, and if he refuses, well..." Vuram scratches his chin. "Maybe ask for the map first. If it's not a fake I can guide us through, that way even if he's a plant we can still make the attempt. Bah, plots and counterplots weren't my specialization!"

"Yup, the map is a good idea. Or we wouldn't even know where to start. We'd better find time where the guards aren't looking at us too hard to explore the route marked out." Sithiliss suggests. "I don't really need weapons,"he raises one clawed hand,but yes, it might give an indication if he's genuine or not."

Vuram waves a hand at the hobgoblin. "Then say they're for Corrin. Besides, horns and claws are alright in a pinch, but I prefer to kill my enemies in a civilized fashion. Being able to fight at range is handy too."

The last time some one tried exploring, he had a leg broken. Trips in these caves are fraught with danger as an-

Gehuil checks the outside of the tent without warning, holding one hand out to try to indicate to someone else to follow suit at the other side before exiting.

Perception for ratbold: 1d20 ⇒ 11

Staring in surprise for a split second, Volnar quickly realizes what the gnoll is up to, and ducks outside as well.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

"I know something of traps, at least of the mechanical variety. If we're lucky, I can get us by them. And honestly, I was going to ask why we should trust this Schwartz guy, but at this point, will whatever he's leading us towards be much worse than dying here?"

"Agreed." says Lio, "And I'll be glad to help you with traps! I learned them, growing up, too!" he reveals his many, many teeth - a friendly grin!

Corrin nods to the others. "So, you said write everything you say. What then? We haven't got much to work with here..." He tears a sleeve off his shirt, and dips a finger in the bloody entrails that Leo left. "What? It's not exactly like they left us stationary to work with."

"THAT IS SO FREAKIN' AWESOME" Lio whispers, watching the hobgoblin work, "Why didn't [i]I ever think to do tha-"

Sithiliss gives a pained grimace as he sees Corrin write a letter using Leo's blood. "We could try a pigment made out of ashes from the incinerator the next time. I can provide the water,"he suggests.

Lio freezes, his face half-turned away from the lizard, eyes looking back - a look of rejection, and some amount of horror. "No." he says, softly, but firmly. "No, we could not."

He stays that way for a few minutes, until he hears something Vuram says.

Vuram waves a hand at the hobgoblin. "Then say they're for Corrin. Besides, horns and claws are alright in a pinch, but I prefer to kill my enemies in a civilized fashion. Being able to fight at range is handy too."

"I'd prefer not to kill anyone at all..." a troll mutters quietly to himself, looking at his claws, flexing them. He's probably alone in this. He should probably not say anything. These people seem to know better than he. Besides, they did kill all those other people. And then threw them into a fire.

Lio shudders, blinks, and looks around, listening, trying to move through the fog his head has been in for a long time - trying to recall any information he may have heard about this place.

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Not sure how familiar anyone's characters here is with trolls, but this one... looks thin. Surprisingly so. A little bit pale, too.

Corrin pens up the note and gives it to the minotaur to look over. It essentially sums up that he found others willing to "make the run" and it has the codeword, but other than that is very terse, beyond asking for the map. It seems to have as little identifying information as possible. "The lockers are all labeled, or so I've heard, so finding Schwartz's should be easy - the hard part will be getting in and out unseen. I mean, it's the guard barracks...there's bound to be guards there, right?" He frowns. "I wasn't the stealthy one in our little group. I could...probably provide some distraction, if you need, I suppose."

Vuram nods, then looks at Lio. "I think you and I could fake a fight easily enough. Something flashy, that'll draw a lot of attention. Collapse a few tents, do a lot of bellowing. Might even be fun."

Looking about at the others, he proffers the piece of cloth. "Anyone feeling sneaky today?"

The scorpion reappears on Gehuils shoulder with a claw raised and legs skittering in place.

Shush Einde. You are a scorpion, you can't get through a lock, now go get under a rock before someone sees you. If the troll doesn't feel up to it, I'll help with the distraction. I can talk a big game at least.

I assume Volnar and I dont find Greeter being suspicious? If so, my action would be different obviously.

heal: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

"Are there anythings that could create a loud commotion when knocked down? Perhaps we could rig the incinerator to blow?" Sithiliss suggests.

Vuram nods, then looks at Lio. "I think you and I could fake a fight easily enough. Something flashy, that'll draw a lot of attention. Collapse a few tents, do a lot of bellowing. Might even be fun."

"Hum?" Lio looks up. "Well, uh, I suppose we could, but, uh... I don't know if-"

Looking about at the others, he proffers the piece of cloth. "Anyone feeling sneaky today?"

"Oh! Oh! I could help out with sneaky!" he says, showing many rows of teeth. "I mean, I'm pretty big, but..." he trails off, again showing teeth.

That is a lot of teeth. Which are used to smile.

If the troll doesn't feel up to it, I'll help with the distraction. I can talk a big game at least.

"Oh. Maybe, yeah. That... could be good! And I'll be sneaky?" he looks hopeful.

I don't want to hurt people. he thinks quietly to himself. That would be terrible. Still, I want these people to like me...

"Are there anythings that could create a loud commotion when knocked down? Perhaps we could rig the incinerator to blow?" Sithiliss suggests.

Lio flinches. "W-wha- ... you mean just... shut it off, right?" Lio asks, nervously. "I mean, uh, I- I could be d-down with th-that. Yeah. A broken i- i- i-..." he trails off, swallows, and finishes, "i-incinerator. Yeah. Get rid of the thing. Maybe forever." Lio nods affirmation.

Suddenly, Lio sits up with a start. "Oh! Maybe it could be the fault of those acid-things!" he adds. "Maybe somehow managing to get rid of both!"

He nods. This is a great plan. Clearly!

Volnar looks doubtfully at the troll for a moment, taking in his great size, before looking speculatively at the rest of what he supposed were now his companions. With a mental sigh, he spoke.

"Lio, while I'm sure you're super sneaky, I'm quite positive that the barracks are designed for someone of human size. It might be difficult for you to navigate. I have spent most of my life in the woods, and learning how to move quietly is a part of that. While I don't relish sneaking in there, with some sort of distraction, I'm willing to try it. Unless anyone else thinks they're better at it. I have to wonder if a fight is a good idea though. Might they just kill them rather than break it up?"

I have spent a lot of time on the outside of the lash, if my prior experience is anything to go by, the guards are more likely to start making bets than anything else. They don't care what we do to each other. The gnoll speaks in an experienced tone. The scorpion disappears under a nearby rock, ready to go if needed.

Frowning somewhat, Vuram glances from the troll to the gnoll and ventures. Lio seems like a softy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24 "I appreciate the willingness to help Gehuil, but I'm a poor liar and an atrocious actor. If I'm going to be convincing, it's going to need to look pretty real, and I can't kill Lio even by accident. We can wrestle a bit, throw one another into tents, gouge each other up some--and in a couple of minutes he's good as new."

The minotaur gestures to himself--matted fur criss-crossed with scars, and a slightly emaciated look from too much labor and not enough food for far too long...but imposing still, tall and muscled despite clearly being far from his prime. "I'm a pale shadow of the soldier I was once, but I don't think I could pretend to fight you well enough to convince the Nexorans, and if it was real you could be hurt badly, if not killed. I'm not so far gone that I'm willing to risk that."

"W-wait. Y- ... you'd have to hurt the other one?" Lio says.

"No. It'll be me."

Teeth are gone. He looks... both more and less scary simultaneously. Serious, maybe. He nods.

Vurom gives the troll a solemn nod, then turns to Volnar. "How much time do you think you'll need to get into position? We'll wait here for a for however long you need, then start our little brawl. Once we've got their attention you can do your thing. Once you're done, or if it doesn't work, yell to us "Tear his arm off and beat him with it!" to signal that we should wind things up."

If no one has any objections, and once the plan has been set in motion...

Vuram takes a deep breath, and darts a quick, nervous glance at Corrin (if he didn't go with Volnar). With a level stare at the troll, he says "They were stupid, troll. They confronted those humans with no weapons, no plan, and for what? Some dumb bastard who wasn't smart enough to keep his leg from getting broken? Even if they'd succeeded, they couldn't have escaped with their gimp friend dragging along behind. They were stupid, and they deserved to die for it."

Bluff: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (17) - 1 = 16

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...!"

Claws briefly flex before fists are curled instead.

"I guess I'd better get ready to fix them up afterwards."Sithiliss whispers to Gehuil. Sithiliss finds a spot to watch the fight so he can watch the combatants.

Corrin, having left with Volnar, didn't hear Vurum's accusation, but he might've agreed with it, considering he already himself said their bravery was foolish earlier.

With that conversation, the plan was in order, and Corrin heads outside, waiting for the others to get in position. Upon their positioning, he looks around, and starts muttering. "Oh, yeah, fight coming on - hey!" He spots the scarred kobold, and yells, "Yo, Greeter - get some help, I think I see them two new big inmates going at it!"

At that a small crowd starts to gather and move towards Corrin, who is clenching his teeth tight, hoping that Vurum and Lio are ready...

Gehuil nods simply to the lizard before egging things on.

Are you gonna let him talk about dead men like that?! He nudges Leo before turning his "outrage" to Vuram.

They had families, cow! Who are you saying that?
Maybe I shouldn't have said "cow."

Bluff aid?: 10 + 1 = 11

Lettu limited himself to cross his arms behind the back and observe the "disagreement". He was putting quite an effort not to smile - while a side of him hoped this was all a show to distract the guards, he couldn't help but wish it was for real.

And, with his size, he for sure wouldn't try to split the two big guys... Let them have it. However, the clever eyes of the crow played around, looking for the Humans and his weapons. Maybe the crowd would provide some chance for quick hands...

Perception to Hear Corrin?: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17

At Gehuil's words Vuram snaps a glare at the gnoll, then decides to run with it as he takes a few steps back and bellows "CALL ME A COW, WILL YOU?!" Lowering his head, the dark-furred minotaur feels the muscles in his legs coil like a steel spring, powering him forward into the troll.

Charging Bull Rush!: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28 Ramming a shoulder into the troll's gut, he bodily lifts Lio into the air, the force of his charge carrying both of them out of the tent. Aiming for the nearest tent, Vuram heaves the troll into the canvass-and-wood construct. Snorting and stamping his feet like--well, like an enraged bull, Vuram rolls his shoulders and tosses his head back and forth while his hooves gouge long grooves in the dirt; a traditional minotaur dominance display.

Beat Lio's CMD by 10, so that's a 15ft-throw right? Also, since this is only real-ish would you like Initiative checks?

As the commotion begins, Volnar whispers to Corrin, "How many guards total are there?", before edging into position as near the barracks as he can get without seeming suspicious. He readied himself to act once the guards were distracted.

preemptive stealth to dart inside when guards are distracted: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

Vurum and Lio start rolling around on the floor, tearing through the tents, as the crowd of other monsters starts to cheer. "Tear up that troll horn-man!" "Kill that cow and give us some fine steaks tonight" "Hell yeah!" "Rip him up!"

Five of the guards come running, and stop at the commotion, looking around for trouble, but a few of them start laughing. "I got seven gold on the troll." "Hell with that, man, they can't die!" "Look at that scrawny specimen. This grizzled cow is gonna rip him apart." "I'll take that bet!"

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

They seem reasonably distracted, to the point where Volnar easily slips into the barracks. There's only two other guards inside, and they're sleeping at the moment. He easily sneaks past them and finds his way to Schwartz's barracks - it's clearly labeled Schwartz, D., and when he opens it up he finds a dagger in reasonable condition, not broken or rusty like the equipment most of you managed to smuggle in, as well as a couple bottles of wine, a handful of gold coins (17), and a key, though to what, you're unsure.

Lettu notices the guards seem reasonably distracted by the fight where he could, potentially, risk picking a few pockets, though if he's caught he's certain the results would not be favorable.

Picking himself up, Lio spun toward the Minotaur.

"Grrrr..." he was nearly blinded by rage. How could he mock the dead like that?! What they'd tried to do and be!

But then he remembered - this is my friend: he's doing this to help make sure others never suffer the same fate.

He nodded a bit, to himself.

Lio's most important task is to make sure he he doesn't hurt his friend* - as well as keeping a listen for the "code word" to stop when it's time - so his new friend isn't seriously injured.

Heal: 1d20 - 5 ⇒ (6) - 5 = 1
Perception: 1d20 - 5 ⇒ (15) - 5 = 10

Meanwhile he also tries to make sure the guards aren't about to shoot them with... acid.

Sense Motive: 1d20 - 5 ⇒ (15) - 5 = 10

Either way, he tries to put in a good fight... as well as subtly insert the ideas in everyone's head that people are people, and worth being considerate of (secretly hoping for a "moral" victory, maybe even swaying the humans!)*.

Bluff: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (19) - 3 = 16
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12

"No! 'Dat's bull! 'Dose was people! Dey'z should'a never'a b'n tree'd'ed 'dat way'z!" Lio declares, his voice wavering a bit. "Dey'z could'a been'a new friend'z!" he says in a heavier-than-normal accent

Lio flexes his claws and rakes them at Varum.
Atk Claw: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (11) + 0 = 11, Atk Claw: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (18) + 0 = 18, Atk Bite: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
Dmg Claw: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6, Dmge Claw: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5, Dmg Bite: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

At the sight of blood, Lio roars. "'Dere! See what you made me do?! See?!" Lio screeches.

That was... more'n I meant to do. Yeah, he's probably fine... Lio thinks to himself.

Not willing to tempt fate, or risk pissing off the one guard that might be on their side, Volnar puts the note face down under the dagger and slips back out of the barracks.

stealth just in case it's needed again: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10 (also remembered to use my luck this time, not that it worked apparently)

As Lio's claw rakes across his arm Vuram hisses with pain and backs away, keeping half an eye on the troll as he examines his wound. Well done Lio, didn't think you had it in you. Another scar for my collection, I suppose. Today I bleed for you, my brothers.

Affixing the troll with a dark glare, Vuram roars back "Shut up and fight!" before tearing at Lio, his hooves throwing up clods of dirt and he rapidly closes the distance. Aid Another Bluff!: 1d20 - 4 ⇒ (13) - 4 = 9

Powerful Charge!: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19 Gore: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 3) + 6 = 11

Hopefully we get that circumstance bonus...

Sithtiliss looks at the combatants fight. 'They're paying for the distraction in blood...please don't let anyone take any permanent disabling injuries'

Well...the die akready was cast..he could either sit here, or help.

"Cow, I heard that troll say your mother was a goat!" He yells, egging Vuram on.

bluff aid: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

Vurum and Lio do such a good job distracting the guards that even though Volnar trips over a rock and makes a decent amount of noise catching himself, the guards don't notice him at all!

It's around this time the guards flick the switches on their guns to stun, and their packs start charging up with energy. "Alright you two, this is getting on far too long - two big guys like you, we ain't losing another worker. Got it?"

Attack Vs Vuram: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22 Damage: 2d6 ⇒ (3, 4) = 7
Attack Vs Vuram: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18 Damage: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 2) = 4
Attack Vs Lio: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9 Damage: 2d6 ⇒ (5, 6) = 11
Attack Vs Lio: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24 Damage: 2d6 ⇒ (6, 1) = 7
Attack Vs Lio: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6 Damage: 2d6 ⇒ (1, 6) = 7
Nonlethal Electricity for both

Before the two even have a chance to obey their commands, the guards open fire and start unleashing lobs of powerful electric energy, calibrated to be of a stunning effect. "Chain 'em up. Show them what we do to troublemakers." One of the five guards pulls out some large sized manacles and starts to approach the two battlers.

Volnar slips into the crowd watching the end of the fight, mentally relieved that, unlike humans, nagaji don't blush. That was just a completely embarrassing attempt to be sneaky.

"YUZE GODDA APOWOJIZE~!" Lio shrieks in a slightly effeminate (for a large troll) voice, panic warring with rage and determination within him.

We're bein' shot, we're bein' shot, we're bein shot-

... but it wasn't acid. It wasn't fire. It was just tingles. Tingles weren't so bad. Yeah. He'd hold to the code word. Gotta hear the codeword, otherwise his friends could get hurt.

But: acid! No! CODEWORD.

He swipes a fist and misses the minotaur!

Having nine wisdom sucks, yo.

Driven to one knee by spasming muscles, Vuram feels a flutter of panic. Every instinct developed over the past nine years is screaming at Vuram to keep his mouth shut, that he'd done enough...but he wasn't certain the Volnar had made it out yet. Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

I'm still here... Just my character doesn't have any actions at the moment.

Lettu mentally catalogs every single human and weapons he sees. With his feathery feet fingers, he scratches the floor trying to mark his count, while pretending to be simply watching (and enjoying...) the brawl.

The humans, sufficiently distracted by the fight, give a chuckle at Vurum's taunt to the troll. One of them elbows another and comments, "Damn, if this bull weren't already broken in so damn good, he'd be a great candidate for the collar." The other one nods, as the other two humans move in to manacle the two giant humanoids' arms behind their backs. The other three aim their weapons, just in case there's resistance.

Provided there's no resistance, and subject to change if there is

The humans cuff them up, and give them each a good kick to move them forward towards one of the camp's towers in the wall - fortunately, not the one with the incinerator, but given his experience, Vurum has a feeling he will end the night with a few more scars for his disruption tonight.

It's not a pleasant experience, and though the two try their best to hold their tongues, their compatriots can hear the results of their capture, the crack of the whips, and the sickening glee the deliverer of such torments has in his voice. (Obvious fade to black - I don't believe the detail for this kind of stuff is necessary or helpful. Torture, like sex, in RPGs is best something implied and not laid out.)

The next morning their unconscious bodies are unceremoniously thrown in the middle of the camp by six guards, three dragging each body. One of the guards, one of two wearing the black armor with the crimson stripes, the others wearing plain black, stops as the other five are leaving. "I'm gonna take a trophy off that f*#%in' troll." He kneels down next to the troll and pulls out a wicked dagger, and starts cutting off the giant's ear.

SlightOfHand: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

The armored man starts to walk off with the ear in hand, and you can hear the others laughing at his gruesome display of collecting.

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22

"Cant leave any of us oout in the rain like that..." Sithiliss mutters. Once the guards are not looking their way, Sithiliss tries to drag both Vuram and Leo into a tent, one at a time. He tries to signal to Gehuil to help.

Once in the tent, he pulls the shutters closed and starts fixing them.

channel: 1d6 ⇒ 1
channel: 1d6 ⇒ 4

GM tell me how many channels I have to burn. I have max 5..

"Leo, I'm sorry about your missing ear, but I saw of the guards put something in your chest." He tells Leo when he wakes up.

Gehuil hears all too familiar sounds into the night. Maybe he had the good side of the deal in the end. In hindsight the offer to join the melee was ill advised as Vuram said. In fact he felt the slightest hint of guilt seeing the two reemerge from the tower.

I...

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Upon seeing the humans mutilation Gehuil laughs his wicked laugh, it isn't clear if he notices the same thing Sithiliss has. Either way, he obliges the lizard.

Heal: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21 The gnoll tries to identify the injuries. How deep they are, etc.

What kind of whip was this? He mutters to himself.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20

Lettu follows the others to the tents, apparently to attend to the hurt. The Corby notices the guard's movement, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he limits himself to smile, noticing things were moving... In theory.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

Volnar watches silently as the guards drop off his unconscious companions, and then saw off the troll's ear. He wonders at the minds behind such behavior. He had no problem killing if necessary, that was just how life was. But torture? Mutilation? There seemed no point to it. It was just... wasteful. He followed along to the tents in case his assistance was needed.